


Zootopia: Spirit of the Rockies

by Medic_27



Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: A touch of the supernatural, Adaptation, Adventure, Exploration, F/M, Go listen to the album, Interspecies Relationship(s), Love, My source material is music, based on an album, not angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-02-23 06:56:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23907568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Medic_27/pseuds/Medic_27
Summary: Nicholas Wilde has decided that it is high time for adventure, and where better to find it than the largely unexplored Rocky Mountains? He has no set plan, and he knows that he could end up anywhere. Even with this knowledge, there is no preparing for the journey that awaits him.*This is an adaptation of the album "Spirit of the Rockies" by the Kruger Brothers for Zootopia. The story title and plot are taken directly from their album.Enjoy!
Relationships: Judy Hopps & Nick Wilde, Judy Hopps/Nick Wilde
Comments: 25
Kudos: 12





	1. A Man and His Story

**Author's Note:**

  * For [the Kruger Brothers](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=the+Kruger+Brothers).



> A.N. I don't plan for this to be a long project. Ten chapters maximum. Some chapters will be much shorter than others because of my source material.
> 
> This is an adaptation of the Kruger Brother's album "Spirit of the Rockies". Most of the plot, all of the chapter titles, and many phrases will come directly from their songs.
> 
> That being said, I will do my best to stay true to the story of the album and the characterization of Nick and Judy. I fell in love with the album and thought it would work nicely as a Zootopia fic.
> 
> Disney has the characters and the Kruger Brothers have the story and title.
> 
> I hope you enjoy it!

**Spirit of the Rockies: Chapter 1 – "A** _**Man and His Story"** _

"Nicholas Wilde?"

"Here!" I shouted as I raised my paw. The train conductor had me booked for this trip since March. I knew the guy, a Bengal tiger that I had been friends with since we were young and playing cops n' robbers behind the barn.

"Heh there ya are!" He looked down as he handed me my ticket. "Figure I'll see ya again?"

"I sure hope so Richard." I met his gaze then looked toward the train which let out a blast of steam from the boiler. "I might make my home up in those mountains though, so don't worry too much bout me."

"You pretty set on this, aren't ya Wilde?" I could tell he was concerned by the tone he used. He had always looked after me, even when it wasn't necessary. I looked down at the ticket.

Nicholas Wilde

August 3rd, 1892

UNION PACIFIC RAILROAD COMPANY

THIS NOTE IS VALID FOR ONE

TRANSIT FROM Boston

TO Rocky Mountains

PLUS CONNECTIONS.

No Return

The ticketer had not been very specific with my destination I didn't think. I hoped that wouldn't come back to bite me in the tail. Finally, I looked back up to Richard, "Yeah, I know this is what I want to do. There is nothing left for me here in Boston, you of all people know that. I want adventure! I need it! I have been living here my whole life. I want to explore and find my own path!"

"I get it Nick. You are looking for adventure, and it can't be found in Boston. Listen, where are you headed?

I showed him the ticket hoping he would answer his own question. To be honest I didn't know where I was headed myself.

"Beth," the tiger mumbled under his breath. "She's going to get herself fired if she keeps doing this." He paused a moment in contemplation, then spoke, "So if you are alright with it, I know a little town out there I think you would like. I could get you a job with the company."

He was talking of course about the railroad company. He was smart. Definitely smart enough to get me a job away from the construction of the railway; he had to be to even be considered for a position as conductor. "You mean with a clearing crew?"

"Haha quick as ever I see. I'll take that as a yes. I know which connections to send you on." He beamed at the thought of his plan. He lived and breathed the railroad business. Had wanted to be a conductor since he knew how to speak. He even got disciplined once by a grade school teacher because he wore his conductor's outfit more than she thought was right.

I nodded my affirmation. I didn't have a plan, so I was fine with his.

"Hey Wilde, I have to head to the engine, but come by before you detrain and I'll give you a list of connections to make."

"Will do, Richard. Until then," I waved. He waved back and headed off to do his job.

* * *

The trees turned to plains after five hundred miles, but they returned after another thousand. I got bored during the trip, but I was so excited to start my journey in the mountains that I couldn't sleep. I had picked up the list from Richard a while ago. Now all that was left to do was play cards with whomever I met along the way, transfer to the right trains, and wait.

I looked out the window for a while, and then, as we came out of a valley, my snowcapped mountains appeared. They were larger than life, I swear. It was amazing, and I knew I would find all of the adventure I was looking for here.

I watched eagles fly high in the air, darting in and out of the trees and clouds. I heard the treetops singing, and it felt as if they were calling to me. They promised freedom and exploration and serenity. The spirit of the mountains had me in its spell. I didn't mind though. It was what I had wanted for as long as I could remember.

I had never been a mountaineer and never thought I would become one, but I had an image of freedom, and it all started on top of Cascade Mountain.

* * *

It seems as though my friend's offer of a job had been good. The railway had given me work clearing and cleaning alongside a team of equines. It was my job to keep the horse's rooms clean. I also worked closely with them. I moved bales of straw for their meals, and fresh water for them. I did the best I could to make their work easier. It was hard work, but it would earn me enough money to get me started on my adventure.

"Hey Nick! Can ya help us get this rock slid out from under the rail? The gap is too small for any of us to reach," Buck, one of the equines, shouted towards me. I had just started my break, but I didn't mind giving them a hand. The horses had been friends of mine since I started work here several weeks ago. We would joke around during work, and even hang out and get drinks after the day was done.

"Yeah! On my way!" I shouted back. I grabbed a rope with a hook on the end in case I couldn't move the rock by myself. Foxes were known for dexterity and agility, not brute strength.

I moved over to see what the situation looked like. "You guys got to drop the rails farther down the line?" I asked. This happened sometimes when the track had to be lowered because of some dip in the landscape later, and the whole previous section needed to be changed as well. Usually this was a relatively easy process, but moving rocks that were buried could cause a lot of problems. Usually they were small enough where they could slide out, but sometimes the rail and crossties above it had to be moved for more explosive excavation measures.

"Yeah," Buck replied. "The scouting team found another drop up ahead, and Clyde thinks it'd be better for us to adjust for the change back here." Clyde was the foreman of this construction setup. He wasn't the friendliest mammal I'd met, but he sure knew his way around railway construction. For some reason, he had a particular dislike of me. The guys had a running bet on how long it would take him to call me out on something each day.

"Good for y'all I guess," I mentioned as I took my rope under the rail. This particular railroad construction task required a lot less heavy labor from them. I looped the rope around the center of the rock and hooked it to itself, backing my way out of the hole with the loose end in my teeth.

"Speak of the devil!" said Buck under his breath. "Here comes Clyde now."

I nodded my head in acknowledgment and thanks, then handed my friend the rope. We had done this plenty before; he or another equine would use their superior pulling strength and the rope to dislodge the boulder.

"Wilde!" shouted the slightly throaty voice of the mountain goat foreman, "I have sixteen bales on the west side that need to be moved before supper."

This was a common practice for him. He liked to 'forget' to tell me about some task that he thought I needed to do, and conveniently reminded me of it whenever he felt it would cause me the most inconvenience. "I'm on break, sir," I responded.

"Don't care. You don't look like you are taking a break now. Just getting in the way. Go do a job that's yours to do," Clyde said angrily.

I was used to it by now, and it honestly did not bother me very much. I knew he was always going to find some excuse to have me do what he wanted, so there wasn't much use fighting it.

While I was having my nice little conversation with the boss, Buck had been tugging the rope behind him. Finally, the rock had dislodged from its home and had slid out of the hole. Unfortunately, it had been stuck on a tree root, and the spring-like movement had caused the rock to not just slide smoothly out. It instead slid to the top of the mound and began rolling down the slight slope, pointed directly at a couple boxes of iron steaks. After regaining a bit of speed, the rock smashed into the left crate, shattering it and sending its contents flying. "Will he try for the spare?" one of the other horses jibed.

The equines laughed, and so did I, but Clyde was pissed. I could almost feel the heat of his anger behind me. "That's it. You're fired, fox!" the goat said coldly, with a sickly-sweet undertone. He had been waiting for this day since I had been assigned to his team by his bosses.

Buck stepped in in my defense, "Sir, that wasn't Nick's fault."

Clyde shot a glare at him that made even the much larger mammal feel uncomfortable. "He tied the rope, didn't he?" he refuted, knowing that that didn't have any effect on what would usually be considered a minor, if not humorous, accident.

"Sir," began my friend before he was interrupted.

"I swear if you try to defend him any more, you'll be going back to town with him."

Buck looked to me and seemed like he wanted to protest further, but I shook my head and casually waved it off. I greatly appreciated what he was attempting, but I knew that it would not work. "I'll see you guys around," I said as I waved to my friends.

They sent their goodbyes in a variety of waves and shouts. I gave them a two-finger salute and turned to get my belongings from the lodging and my final paycheck.

I wasn't too terribly worried about finding another job. The town had plenty of employment opportunities, certainly ones more suited to a fox.

* * *

They gave me a new uniform for my new job. It was cut out of my first week's pay, but I didn't really mind. I had been working as a bellhop down at the local hotel. It was a nicely furnished wood cabin that offered a very comfortable lounge for conversation. Mammals gathered around the fire every night to share stories of their adventures in the mountains.

"Ding-ding," rang the bell that signaled that I had another load of luggage to carry up to a guest's room. This job was much more suited to my tastes, I thought. I had been working here for several months now. Honestly, I was kinda glad that I got a job indoors now that it had turned autumn. It wasn't that terribly cold in the sun, but as soon as the light dipped behind the tree-line, the temperature dropped low enough to make my fur bristle. Heck, my winter coat had already grown in and I had been spending the majority of my day inside. They even had the fire going all day in the lodge.

I hurried out to where the guest's luggage was piled and grabbed one of the suitcases that were sitting there. It went up to my chest even though it was the smallest one of the stack, so I made a mental note to grab the dolly on my way back out.

After I had the elk's luggage stowed away, I went to find Earnest to see if I could clock out. "Hey Ern! Is Johnny here yet?" I asked when I found the old deer.

"Right behind you, Nicky!" Jonny said with a pat on the back. "How's it goin Ern?"

"It's goin just as good as can be, Jonathan. Your ma got them supplies she was wantin?" Ernest Longfoot inquired of Jonny after he sent a wink my way. That buck knew all the goings-on in town, but nobody seemed to mind. He was old enough to be like a father to everyone under the age of fifty, and everyone treated him with the respect to prove it.

"You know it! They came on the train this morning."

"Well that's just fine! Nicholas, it looks like you are free to enjoy the rest of your afternoon," he said with a smile. "Oh! And if I didn't reckon you were goin to already, I'd suggest you go drop in over by the fire. We seem to have some company that hasn't made your acquaintance quite yet," he mentioned with a smile that seemed to be full of mischief.

"Will do, Mr. Longfoot." As suggested, I moved back to the lounge as I always did to listen to the stories of the mountaineers that were passing through. Stories were commonplace in the evenings around here, and each tale made me breathless with wonder. I swear every story I heard made me more determined to explore the mountains once summer rolled back around.

Back when I started, they told comparatively tame accounts of their travels and all of the adventure they had roaming the woods. As the days were getting shorter and the nights colder, the traveler's stories were growing larger than life. They became something of legend and myth; some were second-hand tales from Native Americans, while others were completely wishful dreams that the narrator wanted us to believe were true.

She was sitting on a stool in front of the fire hearth with a right crowd around her. She was a grey bunny with long, black-tipped ears and bright amethyst eyes. I had never really paid much attention to the looks of non-vixens, even though relationships of that kind were generally accepted nowadays. That being said, you didn't have to look very long to see how beautiful this doe was. She had gathered a crowd around her by telling them stories, it seemed.

This bunny told stories so full of energy and emotion that shadows seemed to come alive! She sang songs of true love, of troubles, and of strife, and I don't think I ever had a full breath of air for the entire evening! I was caught in a trance by her stories and by her voice. Every now and then, she'd send a lingering glance my way, and that really set my heart running like a hare, or I guess like a rabbit in this case.

Time seems to pass the fastest only when you want it to last the longest. The evening flew by like a dream. The rabbit was not a guest at the hotel it seemed, as she grabbed her coat from the rack and announced that she needed to head home before it got too late. I wanted to tell her how I felt about her, that I loved her, but I couldn't bring myself to get it out. I don't know why I felt so strongly about her. All I knew was that she was perfect and that I had couldn't just ignore my feelings for her. I felt more intensely about this girl than I had about any of my past girlfriends. I looked for her, but she had already disappeared into the night by the time I got out of my thoughts.

"Judy 'll be back sometime soon I reckon, son," said Ern. "She just got back from some business back east. She's a regular here and has a home a mile and a stretch northward."

"Thanks, Ern," I smiled.

' _Judy. So that's her name."_


	2. There Came a Howling Gale

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A.N. Just FYI this chapter switches to Judy’s POV. Remember, this is basically a folktale and also not my story, so don’t look at me.  
> Nick has made his way to the mountains in a long-term search for adventure. After being fired from a job in the railway, he is working in at the hotel and making some new friends. After an evening of stories, Judy leaves the inn.

I had just finished retelling one of my favorite stories, one my mother always used to tell me, to the guests and townsfolk. The hotel was the most popular gathering place in the town, and provided a nice and comfortable place for all kinds of animals to relax and tell stories, talk to others, sing songs, and meet new friends. I usually do the former, but I am pretty sure the latter happened tonight. By the way that fox was acting toward me, we could possibly become more than friends, I thought. He was good looking for a fox, and the _fox_ aspect of that proposal didn’t bother me. I doubt it would bother anyone else here either. Heck, Ern, a manager at the hotel, even pointed him out to me.

“Bye everybody!” I called back into the den. A resounding chorus of farewells sounded back from around the fire. I looked for the fox, but I didn’t see him. I wanted to talk with him some, maybe find out his name. I figured I’d be back soon enough, and it was time to leave if I wanted to get home at a reasonable time.

As I stepped out into the night, I felt happy to be home. I also noticed that a storm was blowing in from the north. I need to get home soon. With all the wind, and possibly the rain, it was sure to get cold quickly. Storms out in the mountains were no joke. You really didn’t want to be caught in one.

The moon was covered by the clouds, but provided a good amount of light when the clouds parted. For when it didn’t, I had a candle in my lantern that was adequate. It had glass on the front part, and metal on the back, so the wind didn’t blow it out.

I always loved watching storms, although usually from inside. They showed off the raw power that nature controlled. I looked up at the moon as I walked down a flat stretch of trail. The Autumn leaves were blowing past me, and the clouds were racing across the sky. The wind was strong enough to get past the protection of my coat. It whipped my ears against my back and made tree tops rustle.

With the moon darting in and out of the clouds, the shadows seemed to chase after me. They reminded me of what I suspected wolves on the trail of prey must look like. Honestly, I was a little worried about being out in the storm, but not because of the dark. Well, partially because of the dark, but only because of the not being able to see. I mean, I’m not afraid of the dark, or anything that’s out there, I’m just cautious of the possibility of danger that walking around a mountain path at night could bring.

The trail I was on was not the same as I had remembered and I have been walking these trails my whole life. I must have taken a wrong turn somewhere. I had been warned that the railroad had made headway on this mountain since I’d been gone, but I hadn’t realized they had already come through here! I should have just spent the night in town.

The railway made new trails, but they would have picked back up the original route when possible, right? I had already deviated from the path, but I could find my way around these woods. The rain hadn’t started yet, and I was hoping that it would stay that way. With new trails, especially excavated ones like the one I was on, there was a fair chance of landslides. If I were to be caught in one of those, it would be a death sentence. The wind died down some, so I made use of being a rabbit and broke into a run. I really needed to get to shelter quickly.

The trail I was on split, so I took the path that I thought to be in the direction of my home. This was my third or fourth turn from my original path, and I was beginning to get worried that the trail wouldn’t reconnect to one I knew. I made another turn, then another. I desperately needed to find the path, or this could be deadly! 

The clouds broke wide enough this time to give me a clear view of my surroundings. In that moment, it hit me just how lost I was! No part of the scenery was familiar to me. I didn’t recognize the trees, or the trail, and even the moon looked out of place. My chest got tight, but I don’t think it was from running. An ethereal cold crept into my heart as my palms began to heat up. “No. No!” I mumbled, not that anyone could hear me over the wind, or that there was anyone around. Panicking was the last thing that I should be doing! It wouldn’t solve anything! 

“I need to backtrack,” I declared. I turned around and headed the direction from where I came. This was the only way to find the right path. The wind picked back up and the clouds covered the only light source besides my candle which was thankfully still lit. I could still see the rocky trail, but I was beginning to think even that wouldn’t help me.

“Yup, definitely lost,” I groaned to myself. I was looking at a narrow wooden bridge that I had not crossed on my way here, and had not encountered before. I must have missed another turn. Well at least a bridge was closer to civilization than a trail. If I continue on this path, I’m bound to encounter somewhere I can take refuge from the storm.

As I drew near the bridge, I could hear a roaring river far below even above the wind. Must have been rain from higher in the mountains, I thought. I got to the bridge and waited until the moonlight proved its integrity. It looked sound, and the wind was at a lull, so I started across the gorge. I took my first step onto the bridge and could feel that the dew had made the planks a bit slick, but it was definitely sturdy enough. No reason to worry as long as I was careful.

About half way across, a horrendous gust of wind came without warning and knocked me into the guard rail. It felt as if my coat were pulling me off my feet! My right foot slipped under the fence and past the edge of the plank, followed by my leg and other foot. I reached for the rail in an attempt to save myself from going over the edge, but I had already slid off far enough where my fingers never made their connection. I cried out in surprise, but knew that nobody was there to hear it.

I was in freefall. Everything seemed to slow, and I saw the bridge growing farther and farther away. It seemed amazing that it had happened in the span of a couple seconds!

I can’t believe this is it! One moment I was walking on the bridge, now I’m not, and in the next moment, I won’t be alive to understand what happened.

I didn’t even have time to be afraid of the end! I was still in shock that I was actually in this situation. Strangely, I wasn’t worried. It was almost peaceful that I knew what would happen. I knew one other thing: I didn’t want to see it coming.

I closed my eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A.N. Stick with the story. It’s not angst. Also, kindly put down the torture devices please. This wasn’t my decision. Listen to the song “There Came a Howling Gale” by the Kruger Brothers (In the album “Spirit of the Rockies”) if you don’t believe me. You can find it on Spotify super easily. 
> 
> Please let me know how you think I did on that last scene. I can’t tell if I got the ‘gravity’ of the situation right. 
> 
> The next chapter is already completed, just in case something were to come up. Expect it in around a week. I wanted to make sure I didn’t leave y’all hanging :) 
> 
> Finally, my thanks go out to everyone who has supported this story so far!
> 
> Song here:  
> https://open.spotify.com/track/0176VjMbWGpGBwmfevTUCO?si=VDojCnHNSwyYSYNBHqO5qQ
> 
> Album here:  
> https://open.spotify.com/album/6JGAhEiVrp5NV7QwXI2LDw?si=0tIYeTZ5S-eTdG-elxVTsg
> 
> (These links probably won’t work on FF dot net. It’d be easiest to just look them up yourselves if you are interested.)


	3. This Is Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A.N. I think you will like this chapter. It will almost definitely be the shortest chapter that you will see from me, although the shorter length is necessary to adhere to the source material.
> 
> Last chapter, Judy became lost in the maze of unfamiliar mountain trails. While attempting to cross a bridge, a gust of wind caused her to lose her footing and fall over the edge.

**Spirit of the Rockies: Chapter 3 – "This Is Me _"_**

It didn’t hurt like I thought it would. I didn’t even realize what had happened at first. I was on the bridge. Now where was I?

I was falling, wasn’t I? It doesn’t feel like I’m falling now.

Was I on the ground? No, there isn’t any ground beneath me. What could have happened? That fall would have been fatal, even to a feline.

Maybe this was some sort of memory or something. It must be a delusion created all in my mind. Was this all just a dream? Am I sleeping in my bed at home, wrapped up in my blanket? It doesn’t seem like this is a nightmare, I thought. I don’t remember getting home. I’m too lucid for this to be anything but real, but this can’t be right! It’s impossible!

I can see myself in the water below the bridge. I’m draped across several jagged rocks, my torso submerged in the frigid stream. I haven’t moved of my own accord since I landed. Only the flow of the water has moved my body. Is this what has become of me?

It’s not painful seeing myself in this state. It’s almost like I am only resting, the river providing a serene backdrop for my sleep. I always thought it would be unpleasant. I thought it would be the most traumatic and fear-laden of times.

It isn’t. I am not afraid. Why should I be? It has already happened, hasn’t it? What can I do but accept it?

I am not inside my body, but rather floating above it I would say. I’m suspended in the air with nothing to keep me aloft. I don’t know how it is possible, but I sense that if I wanted to move, all I would need to do is attempt. It is a once in a lifetime experience. Or I guess that particular phrase has now been rendered invalid, hasn’t it?

This change seems to have brought a clarity to the world. It isn’t something I can very well describe. It feels like I understand these mountains so much more than I ever have before. I don’t feel tethered to the world, like I have been freed from reality. It’s not a knowledge that I have gained, but rather a feeling of wholeness and unity. Like I am a part of my surroundings. I feel that these trees, the stream below, and the birds above are joined with me. I feel that I know them like I know myself.

A bird to my right caught an insect to feed her three younglings in the carefully constructed nest in the tree behind me. I haven’t seen the bird with my eyes, and the tree is almost fifty paces away. The bird is of the White-throated Swift variety, and two of its offspring will survive the winter. The tree is a Cottonwood, just under forty years old. It was seeded after a storm, much like this one. Two of its neighbors had been uprooted by winds that were allowed to pass through by the recent death of a large Fir tree. In two years, the Cottonwood tree would lose its second largest limb in a blizzard, but would survive for another six.

I wasn’t told these things. It was just something that I knew. It was if the knowledge had always been there, but that I had just become aware of it. It felt like I had been limited during my life, like I was finally allowed to know the things that were always in my mind. I felt like I was finally complete.

I felt more alive than I ever have before! It seems that death is not the end of my life. I think everyone holds some idea that death is the end of their story. I don’t believe this anymore. This is not the denouement of my narrative, but rather the exposition. This is a new start for me. This is what I was always meant to be.

I am born again, differently than I was before. Time is my friend, and is no longer waiting to take me. Gravity has released its hold on my body. A new beginning has been given to me, and it has freed me from the restraints of mortality.

I could smell the rain’s pleasant fragrance. Combined with the earthy scent of an uprooted tree, the sappy aroma of pine, and the musky odor of wet leaves, the smell of an Autumn storm was permeating the mountain air. It reminded me of the candles that I always kept burning in my home. I wonder if anyone would keep them now that they are of no use to me.

The storm had ended in the time since my violent descent. It had only lasted into the early morning, but the clouds lingered until the sun was above the horizon. The dawn of light brought out the mist and fog from the valley. It livened the air with the bugs and songbirds who weathered the storm much better than I. The latter happily chirped out their songs, and seemed at ease with me floating near them.

The river had dislodged my body from the recently illuminated rocks. I slid slowly across the submerged boulders downstream, the water carrying my old form away from the bridge.

Although my body was no longer capable of sustaining life, I was very much alive. My heart was still, my joints rigid, and never again was air to be drawn into my lungs, yet my spirit lived on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A.N. This is by far the shortest chapter I have ever written at about half the word count of the previous, but I really want to keep ties with the “Spirit of the Rockies” album. It has also been the most difficult chapter to write, and it took as long as the other chapters to complete. I've never written someone realizing and coming to terms with their own death, much less after the fact. This is my first attempt at something like this, and I’d appreciate your suggestions on what to improve or what you liked about it. 
> 
> I start working soon, so chapters will definitely be more than a week apart, I think. Just thought I'd let y'all know.
> 
> Link to the song:  
> https://open.spotify.com/track/5X3XknDTEEswwbwQ5UEi2i?si=EiH2CtuPQWqQGj7oH61TEg
> 
> (These links probably won’t work on FF dot net. It’d be easiest to just look them up yourselves if you are interested.)


	4. As in so Many Dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A.N. This took a hot second to get out, but it doubled the word count of the first three chapters combined. I really had fun writing this scene, so I hope you enjoy it!  
> In the last chapter, Judy realized that death hadn’t been the end for her.

I looked around for something to do. I’m not sure what, but I couldn’t just wait there all day. I mean, it's not like I had taken a class on how to properly be a ghost. I didn’t have any instruction on what to do next. Maybe I should head home.

I saw a grub moving around the outside of a decaying log. Apparently, a songbird saw it too, because it dove down to snatch it up and bring it back to its chicks. On its flight back, the bird flew through my thigh which startled me, to say the least. It didn’t notice me, which I found surprising.

It seemed that I would not be able to interact physically with other things. Could anything hear me? I doubted they could, but I thought it was worth looking into later.

I was dead, and that was somehow okay. I wasn’t prepared for my death - I mean who is? - but it wasn’t a hard thing to accept for me. It just feels like a natural progression in my life. The real pain in death is the sadness it leaves behind.

I don’t have any family remaining, only close friends. I know the people in town will miss me for a while, but deaths have happened before. Eventually, I will just become another memory and a face in their dreams.

It didn’t bother me that they would let my memory go after their period of grief. I think I may have preferred it, if I was honest. I don’t want my death to have a lasting impact on their lives. Bunnies can die from grief, and while that is not true of most of my friends, I don’t want them to have to experience something like that.

I don’t want my death to hurt them more than it hurt me.

They were still my friends, even if they wouldn’t know it. I loved them as if they were family, and in a way, they were. I have known them my whole life, and they practically raised me.

After my mother died, I was scared and alone. I was old enough to take care of myself, but just barely. The thought of being alone at that age was terrifying. Thankfully, the people in town took me in. I guess it is true what they say. It takes a village.

I remember back during the first few days after my mom’s death. I was barely functioning. I hadn’t cooked myself any food since it happened. I hadn’t gone out to see anybody, and the people in the town were starting to get worried. Most had at least heard about the whole ‘bunny grief-death’ thing, but I think most wrote it off as a tall tale. Bunnies aren’t exactly common in this corner of the world.

Anyways, a caring mama-bear by the name of Mrs. Bearenstein took it upon herself to help me. She came by my house to check on me one afternoon, bringing a cauliflower casserole and a loaf of French bread. My house was kinda small, as in I could touch the roof if I jumped a bit. There was no way that a bear of any size could have fit into my house, so we ate outside. 

“Judy, are you sure you are alright?” she asked as I picked at my food.

I took a small nibble off the end of my fork before answering her. “I think so,” I nearly whispered.

“You know, that doesn’t sound very convincing. Talk to me about it.”

I sighed and reached across my shoulder to pull my ear forwards so I could rub it. “I don’t know what to do. I barely have the energy to get out of bed. This casserole is the first hot meal I have had since she…” I trailed off.

“I figured as much. I am so sorry,” the ursine expressed in a warm voice. She handed me another napkin.

I took it and gave a weak smile before looking back at my plate. We sat in silence for another minute or two. “I don’t know where to go from here. She has always been there, and I’ve never really been on my own before. I know I should be able to live without anyone taking care of me. I know how to get around and how to handle myself, but I’ve never had to do it alone,” I said, while still looking at my meal. I glanced over to Mrs. Bearenstein, “I don’t know. I guess I’m just overwhelmed.”

“That is very understandable, Judy. Honestly, you are doing better than I had feared.” She shifted her weight forward a bit and reached across the table for my paw. “I’d like you to come live with us for the time being,” she announced in a soft, caring tone.

“Oh no ma’am I couldn’t...”

She laughed, “Of course you can! We have an extra bedroom and we live right in town.”

“I wouldn’t want to be a burden,” I tried to argue.

“Helping a friend in their time of need is never a burden. I have already talked to my husband and kids about this, and they think it is a good idea. Judy, we both know you shouldn’t be by yourself during this time. You would only have to stay until you got your feet underneath you again.”

“Well…” I drew out as I attempted to find a reason to refuse her offer.

“I insist. I am also not leaving unless you are with me.” She delivered with what could only be described as genuine care.

I smiled up at the bear. Just by looking at her, I could see that she was being completely sincere. She really didn’t think this would negatively impact her life in the slightest. She fully believed that this was the best way to help me, and that was a hard opinion to argue against. I hadn’t been taking care of myself, and that wouldn’t change if I stayed in my house, cooped up with only my thoughts and memories.

“I guess I can stay with y’all for now.”

“Excellent! Just pack your bags with everything you might need or want, and I’ll carry them for you. There is plenty of space, so the amount of stuff you take is not an issue.”

The following month or so I spent surrounded by the people of the town. It did wonders for my mental state. A week or two after I moved in, a relative of the Bearensteins sent a message that they had an emergency and needed a place to live. The family of bears would not even entertain the thought of evicting me, but I decided that I should step out so they could help their own.

Quite a few families offered to take me in after news had gotten out that I was planning on moving back to my own home. I agreed to their help easily this time and was supported by my friends. On a suggestion from an old wolf, I began to go out and visit people in town while they worked. I offered them help when they needed it, and they offered me long-lasting friendships.

I started planning what was going to be a recreational trip back east to a more populated city. I was just getting a little stir-crazy and always thought it would be cool to see the same number of mammals that were in a seventy-mile radius of my town all in one place. My friends, which by that point were basically everyone in town, knew I needed a job. Since it wasn’t often that supplies were able to be sent out for and delivered, a lot of the shop owners offered to pay me for picking up whatever supplies they needed. It quickly became a recurring trip. One of these excursions every month or two were more than enough to fund my life and to keep all the local businesses fully supplied.

After the first couple of trips, I developed a working relationship with the small stores I had been getting the supplies from. The store owners helped me by making sure to have extra of my town’s most needed items at a discounted cost, in exchange for being able to sell the new exports from my town. The extra availability of supplies allowed several people from my mountain community to start creating small quantities of items that they didn’t have the means to do so before. This included small crafts, utility items, and consumables. It brought a lot of new money and recognition to my town, and greatly improved the quality of life there. Every party involved was extremely happy with how the deal was working, and it was mutually beneficial to everyone. It had been smooth sailing for three or four years since the route was established.

Due to the benefits my trade route provided, I gained a respectable reputation in my town. Everyone in and around town at least knew of me, but that’s not saying much considering how small the population was. Even the folks that didn’t benefit directly from my trade business were pleased with the relative luxury that it brought to their lives.

I moved back into my old house once I got my feet back under me. It was on my own accord, as I felt it time to come to terms with my mother’s passing. It didn’t take too long to sort through her things. All she had were common use items, as well as a few keepsakes from her life before she came to live in the Rocky Mountains.

Thinking of what my mother had passed on to me, I realized that I had also left behind my own effects from my death. In addition to the physical items, my business venture required a leader, as well as a lot of information and documentation to run. Luckily, I kept plenty of records. More than enough for whoever picked up the trade, as long as they were willing to put their full attention into the job, at least part of the time that is.

I still find it odd that I was concerned about my enterprise at a time like this. I should be more troubled about my _dire_ situation, shouldn’t I? I looked back down to my body. It was still there, now floating peacefully in an eddy behind a boulder. It seemed that I would be stuck there for a while. It shouldn’t be long until someone found me.

I turned back to face upstream, towards the bridge. I hadn’t noticed her before, but there was an old bobcat about ten steps away from me. She was so close to me that it was surprising that I had not noticed her. She seemed to know I was there and was looking directly at me. She must have been a spirit, I thought. The fact that we were both hovering mid-air also helped me nail down that assumption.

She stood in a poised and confident, but comfortable manner. She was not moving, but she still seemed relaxed. She looked as if she was waiting, but for what I don’t know. She seemed to be satisfied with the timing, and she started towards me.

As she strode closer, I was able to get a better look at her. She was ancient in her appearance, as if she was older than the pine trees themselves. Her fur held the dull white color that comes with age, with swathes of greyish brown flanking her face. Her ghostly fur shimmered in the morning light like flames on a copper shield.

On the left side of her face, tied into her fur was the wing feather of an eagle. She wore clothing similar to that of the native tribes, but I could not identify which one specifically. She watched me with a friendly smile on her face that made her look calm and completely at peace with the world around her.

She came to a standstill a foot or two in front of me, I could feel her presence. It was like no other earthly experience. It felt powerful, yet peaceful, like standing near the base of a waterfall. It was nothing like being in the presence of a powerful or strong-willed mammal, where you can only notice their air of authority after you notice the mammal themselves. Being in this feline’s presence was something that required no notice. Her power seemed to radiate out of her like heat from a stove. Her aura moved around every strand of fur. It seeped through my skin and filled my veins with energy.

It was something so different from anything else, but her presence felt as if it was supposed to be there. Even after just a few seconds, it seemed to have always been a part of me. It was so penetrating and intense that I could no longer imagine what it would feel like if the feeling were to be absent. It was warm, and friendly, and caused me to feel relaxed. I knew that no harm could come to me if she did not permit it.

The old ghost looked to her paw as she lifted it to around the height of my shoulder. As the old ghost focused on her paw, whose fur coloration appeared to resemble bark on a tree, I could see that it was beginning to glow with a pale amber light. The warm light seemed to emanate from deep inside the bobcat’s extremity. It shone through her fur like the last rays of sunlight through autumn leaves.

As she reached out her paw, the glow became stronger and shifted lighter in color. With a final flash of piercing white, she placed her hand right above my heart.

My vision bleached with the purest and strongest light I have ever seen, like walking out of a cave into the blinding sun, then a thousand memories and recollections all pieced themselves together. I saw things that happened in my childhood as clear as day. I saw precious moments that I had spent with my mother, ones that were fuzzy and blurred in my mind. Ones that I thought were lost.

I saw myself collecting a bouquet of Anemone Multifida, more commonly known as Windflower, for my mother. I must have been four, maybe five years old. Far too young for such an unextraordinary act to be memorable. I watched myself look around for more of the flowers. I seemed to be in the shallow valley that was to the left of my house.

My attention shifted upwards to see a Red-tailed hawk watching my younger self. Now this I _definitely_ didn’t remember, with the only time I recalled seeing a bird of that nature was thankfully from the safety of indoors when I was 14. Mom didn’t let me go outside for a week. Birds of prey were dangerous to small mammals, especially young bunnies wandering through the woods by themselves. They were among the list of creatures sometimes hunted as ‘dangerous game’ by mammals small enough to effectively wield a gun. This was unsavory to many larger herbivores but was desperately needed to help protect the smaller mammals of the untamed west.

As I watched the hawk ready itself to lift off, my child counterpart became distracted by what seemed to be an ordinary tree that had been uprooted by a spring storm. I ran towards the fallen log, ignorant of the hawk that was making its descent. As the bird neared me with talons outstretched and prepared, I stumbled on an unseen root and faceplanted into the dirt. The bird passed over my ears, which were splayed out in the grass above my head. Unseen to my younger counterpart, the creature kept sailing until it was out of the valley and out of sight. Watching all of this happen, I was extremely glad that the bird elected to not make a second attempt.

The vision blurred, then changed to one of me, several years older now, walking with my mother down a very vegetated pathway. I gathered, from my recognition of the trail, and from a comment my mother said, that we were looking for a medicinal Osha plant. I went off to the side to explore as per usual while my mother stayed on the path. I bounced off with a call from my mother to be safe. She kneeled beside a healthy-looking Ligusticum porteri and began digging around the base of the plant to collect it from its root.

Unlike the last vision, I remembered this memory. It was like witnessing my entire life from a different perspective.

See, the problem with harvesting Osha in the wild is that it looks very similar to hemlock, one of the most dangerous plants around here. It just so happened to also be the plant that my younger self looked so pleased to have spotted. From what I have seen so far, it’s safe to assume that this was the occasion on which I was informed of the difference.

I remembered this time only because of the stern lecture my mother had given me. From what I could recall, she had driven home the lesson about the dangers of hemlock by recounting some of the symptoms handling or consuming the plant could cause. The scare tactic appeared to have worked, as I seem to have remembered that particular warning even in the post mortem.

It wasn’t that she wanted me to be afraid, of course. She loved me as all mothers love their children, and to lose one to such a fate as an avoidable plant would be inexcusable. To do so from a plant in the Cicuta genus, whose members can provide for some of the most terrible deaths, would be especially dreadful.

I watched as I attempted to uproot the deadly plant, it having been small enough to do so without the need to excavate the root. I gripped it by the base, crouched, and used my legs to pull my faux Osha out of the soil, still mostly intact.

Meanwhile, my mother, who had laid her satchel down beside the Osha plant that she was collecting, stood up and caught sight of a knotted tree that sported a healthy growth of ivy along its flank. She left her bag to further study the tree, wandering closer to the large piece of gnarled flora. Her apparent objective to examine the plant hastily changed after she came near me and happened to catch a whiff of the musky odor and saw the spotted purple stem of the hemlock plant I was holding.

I watched as my mother cleared the distance in what seemed like a single leap, her paw smacking the toxic foliage out of my grasp even before her feet were planted on the ground. She unconsciously pulled me a step or two away from where the plant had landed and brought me into a strong, fear-filled hug that lifted me partially off my feet.

“Judith,” she said as she released her hold on me, “don’t ever do that again. Do you hear me? You could have died!”

“Th… that was Osha. You were…” I stammered, still startled from my mother’s outburst.

“No, honey, that was a hemlock plant,” the older doe replied as she began wiping off my paws with her sleeves.

“Oh,” I said quietly, sensing the trepidation in my mother’s voice. “What’s hemlock?”

My mother took a seat on the ground. She guided me to sit across her leg and held me with an arm around my waist. She let out a sigh and gave me a little squeeze with her arm. “Hemlock looks similar to Osha, but it is very dangerous. It’s extremely poisonous from root to leaf, and there isn’t any way to make the poison go away. If you were to have taken a nibble or two off that plant, you would have died.”

I looked down, suddenly very interested in the dirt on the ground. “Sorry,” I heard myself mumble.

“It’s okay, Judy. You didn’t know.” She paused a moment to catch her thoughts, then continued, “I do need you to remember this for next time, though. Hemlock poisoning is not a nice thing, Judy. It hurts a lot. More than running into a table.”

I watched as my mother moved a hand to my forehead. I guess I must have hit my head on our table at some point previous to this walk. Knowing my special talent for getting hurt, it was not surprising, although it probably didn’t stop me for long.

“Judy, I need you to remember this. If you eat even a leaf off that plant, before you eventually are no longer able to take a breath and drown on dry land, you will get terribly sick. You will get dizzy, then confused. You may not know where you are or how you got there. Your muscles will start twitching of their own accord, and there won’t be a thing you can do to control it. Your body might try to throw up to get rid of the poison, but it won’t work. Your legs will not obey your will. Your muscles will stay limp no matter how much you try to move. The beating of your heart will change of its own accord. Before you die, you may be unable to talk or you may fall into a sleep from which no one will be able to rouse you. And the worst part of this is that there is nothing that anyone will be able to do except try to make you comfortable and wait by your side.”

I was still looking at the ground, hesitant to look my mother in the eyes. I knew she wasn’t mad at me or anything, but the fear in her voice got to me. It was because of this experience that I was so cautious about my interactions with plants that I wasn’t entirely familiar with.

“I’m sorry. I… I thought it was Osha,” I replied with a meek voice. “I didn’t mean to…”

My mother pulled me into another hug. “I know sweetie. It just scared me is all. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

With a sniffle, I turned in closer to my mother’s arms.

“I’m just glad you’re safe.”

Once again, the vision blurred. More memories from my life flashed before my eyes, each from a different perspective than first experienced. Each one was different and separated, but they all seemed to melt together. Some of my most influential dreams also played out before my eyes, although the dreams were from the viewpoint I remembered.

One vision, this one of a much more recent time, piqued my interest. It was of me interacting with the city fox in the hotel last night. There wasn’t much that happened; it was more of a short snapshot of the end of a conversation. We both had that giddy smile that one carries with them when they know they just made a lifelong friend.

It was a bit disappointing that I wouldn’t be able to further explore that relationship.

The visions came to an end soon after this. It was like awaking from a sleep that you hadn’t realized you had fallen into. Hearing the rolling echoes and reverberations from a clap of thunder, I refocused my eyes onto the powerful spirit in front of me. Placing her hand on my chest must have been some sort of ritual or spell. It was the reason for all of those visions, which must have only taken but a few seconds judging by the thunder of the lightning that the connection had invoked.

I had no idea what was going on or what she had done, but I inexplicably trusted the ghost in front of me. You would think being in the presence of something this powerful would be at least a tad bit unnerving, but it wasn’t. If anything, it was like being the companion of an equine when faced with an uncertain stream.

My eyes locked with hers and I finally realized the meaning of the phrase, “The eyes are the windows to the soul.” Looking into her eyes was like looking at the soul of the mountain itself. I could see the hundreds, or possibly thousands, of years of experience that she had. I could see her love of the forest and nature. I could see how much she cared for the wildlife that inhabited the streams and the sky. Her eyes seemed to be alive with the subtle energy of the Rockies.

For the first time since I had been made aware of her presence, she spoke. She had a smooth quality to her voice, like a calm breeze blowing through the leaves. It was a rich, full-bodied sound that seemed to resonate through her surroundings.

“Face to face we finally stand. I have been waiting many seasons for our meeting, although I’ll admit it came sooner than necessary,” she said with a warm smile.

That’s a funny way of saying that falling off a bridge causes you to die more hastily than _not_ falling off a bridge, I thought to myself. The idea that she was anticipating for it to happen at all seemed odd, however. “You expected me to die?” I questioned.

“Yes,” she said simply. “All physical beings return to the soil in time, and you would have been no different,” she answered without any implication that death was truly meaningful.

It was apparent that the ghost in front of me had persisted through an uncountable number of years. I guess waiting becomes something in which years are of no consequence, given an eternity. Much like the sunrise, whatever it is that you are expecting will happen soon enough. “I suspect so. It is a lot different than I imagined it would be. I don’t feel like I have lost all that much. I thought that one’s own life would have been one of the most detrimental things to lose.”

“You may have died, but you are still here. You haven’t been taken away from this earth or these mountains. You are just moving about the world in a new way.” She paused, then nodded to my erect ears, “I am pleased to see you are in good spirits, Judith. I understand that this is probably not what you envisioned would happen on your trek home.”

“You are right about that,” I said with a hint of a laugh. I looked around for a moment, first to the body that was still floating in the calm whirlpool. This gave me the odd feeling, so I shifted my gaze to the damp plants on the slope next to me. The rain from the night’s storm had left the ground wet and grass matted down.

I finally returned my gaze to the bobcat. “So, it appears that you are familiar with me; you said that our meeting was something you have been waiting for. I know nothing about you, even though you seem so familiar. Why were you awaiting our meeting?”

“I should start by giving you my name,” she said with a flick of her ear. “You may call me Kachina, if you feel like you need a title to address me. There won’t be much of a need for it though, as we will only be in the presence of one another.”

“You mean to say that there is no one else that I can talk to?” It took me a moment, but I eventually realized what I had just implied. “It’s not that… I mean… um, doesn’t it get kinda lonely? Not being able to have a conversation with anyone and all that?” I backpedaled.

The large cat seemed unphased by my irreverent questioning. “You’ll get used to it. To be alone in these woods, it is a rather peaceful thing.” We sat in silence for a moment at the rather blue turn of the discussion, although she quickly brought it back around to be more positive. “I came here to assist you, if you will allow my guidance. Your home is now among the trees and the sky, as is mine. I’ll walk with you along the most majestic of these mountains’ peaks and through the deepest of its valleys.” Her eyes shone with what could only be described as excitement. “We will travel through dense forests, down raging waterfalls, and along sheer cliffs. We will shape the clouds of the sky and ride the winds that blow through this ancient land.”

She paused a moment to let her promises of freedom sink in. Filled with the intensity of a solemn plea, she came to the crux of her proposition. “You need someone to be your guide. Let me be your friend and your teacher.” Her ears remained alert, eagerly awaiting my response. 

Other than attempting to figure all of this out on my own, which I was not too keen on doing, there seemed to be no other option. Having her as a friend could only help, and if I’m being honest, a friend is exactly what I needed. I took her outstretched paw in my own, accepting her offer of council and companionship.

Kachina seemed very pleased, almost relieved, by my answer, even though she must have known it was the only logical choice for me to have made.

I still hadn’t figured out how to be a spirit or what it meant to be one. I had no clue as to what was expected of me, so I asked the first question that popped into my head. “How do I walk?” I queried expectantly. She had moved through the air so gracefully, placing one foot in front of the other as if she were on solid ground. Until now, I had been just willing myself to move in my intended direction. It worked, but it lacked the elegance that had been shown by my fellow spirit.

“Dreams have power, more so for us. Another thing about dreams is that you need not be asleep to have them. Focus your thoughts, friend. Feel the soil and air beneath you.”

I did as she said, or at least I tried. I knew it was there, and I could feel that I was not touching the ground, but that understanding failed to cause a change. I attempted to step forward, but it only resulted in my body rotating slightly backward.

Kachina steadied me with a wave of her hand before continuing in her instruction. “Use your mind to create the sensation of solid land beneath your feet. Think back to when you walked through the well-trodden pathways of your village. Feel the dirt and the grass under you. Focus on that feeling. Now, press a foot against it.”

I moved my left foot slightly and could feel the dirt where my paw had moved. My toes splayed out against the imagined dirt which seemed to be easily forced out of the way by my movements. It was like the feeling that one would get from a daydream, yet it felt somehow more tangible.

“Good! Now instead of pushing the ground away with your foot, use it to support you. Stand on it, then pull yourself forward,” the feline finished with a purring note of satisfaction in her voice.

I listened to her instructions, creating the feeling of the ground beneath my feet once more. I put my trust into it, as one would put their trust into stepping onto the floor of their house. This time the ground did not move with my foot. It returned the pressure I put into it, and I unsteadily used my feet to stand for the first time since my fall.

I let out a laugh at the minor breakthrough. I looked quickly to the cat who gave me an encouraging smile. She stepped back and waved to me, motioning for me to move towards her.

I lifted one foot and placed it in the air in front of me. It neglected to land on anything solid, so I tried again, this time making sure to conjure the faux ground where I intended to step. I felt it beneath my paw and shifted my weight to that foot. This worked, so I continued the process until I stood before my mentor. I would have said I had already mastered this task if it were not for the fact that it had taken me a solid thirty seconds to cross the short gap and that I had risen to eye level with the much taller cat.

Nonetheless, Kachina seemed pleased that I was able to learn what she had attempted to teach me. I found it very simple to read the old ghost’s emotions. She did not attempt to hide them, no doubt partially because the need to do so had vanished after she became a spirit.

“Well done, little bunny! There are many things you will learn to do like this in time. Just remember that your thoughts and dreams are more powerful now than they were ever before.” She stepped backward several more paces, wanting me to follow her as we talked. “I suppose you would like to know what there is to do now that you are no longer mortal?”

I nodded in affirmation, my ears unconsciously remaining alert in order to hear the sought-after information. I began the process of stepping closer to my friend.

“We are spirits of the forest and of the mountains. That is our charge, protecting nature. We are guardians. If you could ask a mortal mammal, they would say that we do not exist. They are blind to us. They limit themselves to seeing only what is in front of them.” She took a few more steps.

“I have secrets and possess knowledge that cannot be understood with mortal ears, and soon you will share in what I know. There are things out there that we must not allow them to see, and others that they need to be shown,” she spoke while taking another few steps away from me.

“We give them life, joy, happiness, and a love for everyone and everything around them. We talk with them and accompany them through their darkest hours. When they are alone and frightened of what the next day will bring, we tell them what they need to know. We talk of things that should not be said, with words that they will not understand. We craft dreams for them so that they might see the world as one of us.”

She continued walking backward, albeit at a slower pace. I had managed to keep up with her thus far, which was a major improvement compared to my slow, unsteady gait from earlier. I smiled up at Kachina and she smiled back to me.

“What do you say? Will you join me?”

“Yes. I will follow you,” I said without hesitation. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that what she had told me was the truth.

She nodded in acceptance of my response. Her ears flicked, and she looked to a nearby hill, apparently having perceived something that I had not. “Come now. There is something you should see,” she said, leading me back from where we had come.

Once we drew near my body, Kachina slowed and motioned me to move ahead. I paced forward, wary of what might be awaiting me. I felt it then as I stood next to my peacefully resting form. Someone was approaching the stream from the opposing hill.

“Louis, wait up!” called a voice from over the top of the rise.

I looked up to see a red deer facing the mountain stream from atop the mound of dirt and rock. He was scanning the view in front of him. His eyes finally landed on my lifeless body.

“Hey, you’ll want to see this,” the deer said to his companion before quickly making his way down the slope.

A wolf, who was just now breaching the top of the hill, followed his friend down the slope until he caught sight of where the deer was headed, at which point his face paled and he stopped moving. “Are they…” the wolf trailed off.

“I’m afraid so,” the deer said somberly. “Come on, help me pull her up. We need to get her back to town.”

I turned away from the scene. I knew what would happen from here. With my body discovered, I would be given a burial. My friends would be sad, but at least they would have closure. It is better than the alternative of never being found. “Thank you, Kachina,” I said to my friend. It didn’t feel like that body was mine anymore. It’s not that I wanted to be rid of it. It just no longer felt like a part of me. I had moved on. “I think I will be alright, not being alive.”

She just smiled and softly nodded. She knew what I meant. “Come. Your journey awaits.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A.N. Don’t rely on the idea that you’ll become a ghost. Stay safe out there folks!  
> Also, I found a link to the entire album on Youtube! It’s worth listening to if you like folk type music. [It probably won’t work on ff.net. Just google “Spirit of the Rockies Youtube” or something.]  
> https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=OLAK5uy_k-7ci3y2gbPct2RHjOc2Twarm6J2Rule4


	5. My Love is True

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A.N. It has been a bit since my last update due to math-intensive courses -_-  
> In the last installment, we saw Judy come to terms with her own death. She met the ancient bobcat spirit that went by the name of Kachina, who offered her hand in guiding the new ghost in the ways of being a forest guardian.

**Spirit of the Rockies: Chapter 5 – “My Love is True”**

It had been a very… eventful day, I thought to myself as Kachina and I took our time to rest in the branches of a tall pine.

We had been making our way east from the evening side of the mountain range. None of our tasks, in particular, had stood out as being abnormally taxing during our travel, just the usual business that comes with the onset of warmer weather. It was the sheer amount of work we took on that endorsed the need for a moment of relaxation. Compared to some of the other interesting scenarios that had happened in the past ten seasons, today’s activities seemed mild.

As I leaned against the rough bark of the tree, I could smell the sickly-sweet odor of the sap. I heard the quiet rustling of pine branches blowing in the breeze. The beams of light made by the sparse canopy danced around the rocks and shrubs in front of me. It was peaceful, and I could almost see the life of the forest flowing past the old stumps and the new saplings. I watched the pleasant scene and thought about some of what Kachina and I had undergone in the months since I joined her.

For the most part, we performed simpler tasks. We helped shape the clouds come heat of summer when gardens were most in need of the rain. Sometimes we called for a rainstorm when it was thought it would be beneficial to do so, or warded one off if it should be necessary.

We would often sit with lonely people who needed a friend, ones whose life had taken a turn for the worse, or with those that felt defeated by their circumstances. We helped them see the light at the end of their tunnel.

My mentor showed me how to dream with them. They would see us in their dreams as a friend or lover, or as someone who meant a great deal to them. It truly did not matter what they saw us as, for it was their dream. We were only there to provide advice and to comfort them.

We occasionally helped a lost youth back on to the path, or persuaded a mammal to take an action that would cause a romance to blossom. We brought attention to problems that, left unattended, could fester until they became unfixable. We helped people see nature as one of us so that they might have a renewed outlook. Sometimes knowledge of something unknown was gifted, or a memory altered for the benefit of the owner.

Once in a while, it was necessary that we dealt with an overzealous hunter. While we knew it to be natural, and sometimes beneficial, for mammals to hunt the creatures of the forest, there were some hunters, predator and prey alike, who took too much pleasure in the hunt. Kachina showed me the hearts of those hunters. Some of them were black and icy stones that wanted only to prove their power over the creatures they deemed less important than themselves. Some felt tortured and broken by loss and longed to fight for what had previously been taken from them. Other hearts were feeble in their security and cowered in dread of what might be, and those sought to kill so that they might loosen the fear that gripped their hearts. Still more cared nothing for the creatures they hunted nor of what the death of their quarry offered, but only for the hunt and for the acknowledgment and admiration from their peers. We dealt with them in a comparable fashion.

Most of the happenings were used as a teaching moment of sorts, and some were more fondly remembered than others. While not extremely heroic or intense, one of the more engaging duties Kachina had tasked me with took place back during the dry season late last year, we came upon a group of young kits, mixed in both gender and species, about half an hour’s walk away from the nearest settlement. They were of the age where the need to explore one’s surroundings had firmly taken root, and still young enough to not yet carry the burden of responsibilities. Among their supply of the trinkets and knickknacks that youth are inexplicably drawn to collect was a magnifying glass belonging to the father of a young wolf within the troupe.

They were going to attempt to use the magnifying glass to set a moderately sized collection of kindling alight. This would normally not be a problem, but the rain had not fallen for at least a fortnight, and the spot they had chosen to create their fire just so happened to be the worst spot they could have picked. Any spreading of their miniature inferno would quickly engorge itself to a fully-fledged, albeit localized forest fire.

There would not have been any loss of mammalian life from the blaze, meaning we normally would allow the children’s ill-advised plan to come to fruition. Besides being a good lesson in responsibility, planning, and awareness for the younglings, burning of the forest’s vegetation is quite often beneficial to the forest in the long term. Fire destroys, but it also cleanses. It provides an opportunity for new plant life to stake a claim to the soil. Old and dead sections of forests must be cleared for future growth to continue. In several of the more remote regions of the mountains, Kachina and I had been the instigators of such fires.

The problem, in this case, arose from the fact that fire destroys the roots that help steady the soil. That fact coupled with the heavy rain we knew was on its way in the coming months, the scorched soil would have given way and slid into the nearby river. Kachina showed me that this blockage would disrupt the salmon’s yearly migration and spawning, but we could tell that the river and its order would recover neatly within a few years time.

Other creatures would also be affected by the fire. Many birds and reptiles lived and made their homes in the area where the fire would most likely spread. Due to the dry and barren threat of winter, there was an urgent need of the creatures living in the forest to gather supplies enough to sustain them. Even if the birds escaped the heat and smoke, there would not be enough time or supplies to rebuild and regather. This would spell disaster for many of them.

My mentor left the decision and appropriate course of action to me. To let events take their course, or to intervene, thereby disrupting the natural progression of the forest. Having been still so close to life, I had not yet lost the will to prevent creatures from coming to any harm. I felt that the most beneficial option would be to spare the forest and its population until another, more easily amiable time, although that meant the children would need to be learned or else their dangerous escapades would continue. There would be no point in preventing this fire if it led to a more unforgiving one in the future.

To complete both of these goals would mean that I would need to think of a way to prevent a fire and prove its danger simultaneously. For obvious reasons, this presented me with difficulty. How could I do two contrasting things at once?

There was the obvious solution for putting a stop to the planned inferno, one which Kachina and I had used plenty before. Create in their young minds a dream suitable to distract them from their planned excitement and to convince them not to create poorly realized bonfires in the future. Dreams hold great power, and are generally a largely unobtrusive way to have someone obtain a new idea, perspective, or emotion. It feels more natural than forcing an idea into their minds. The problem presented itself in that dreams can be easily ignored if the mammal having them is not in a receptive mindset. In this case, the feverish curiosity to burn a modest pile of twigs fulfilled that stubborn desire in their hearts and minds that would cause them to be undeterred by whatever amount of our will that we can cast onto them.

Another possible option was to draw clouds to the area and cause a downpour. Not a bad idea, except that it still provided no help in correcting the younglings’ behavior. I would also need to collect the moisture from dozens of miles in every direction, as no rain would be coming to this region until a cold wind blew down from the north. While not impossible, I figured there was probably a better solution that I had not thought of yet.

I decided to move closer to the ground in order to get a better sense of what materials I had at my disposal. In their bag was a small knife, some string that would be used for fishing, a small wrapped package of food, a curly segment of vine that a member of the merry band had found interesting, a rock with unusual coloration, a brush, some water, and the button from one of their shirts. Around them was a plethora of dry twigs, logs, and leaves just waiting to catch fire. There were a smattering of evergreen trees spread about the area, evenly mixed with the dry trees that had lost their leaves in the weeks previous.

That would be my key to solving my dilemma.

One of the boys, a mountain lion cub, was gathering tinder for their fire. I could guide him to some green, sappy pine branches that could easily be broken off. They would pop while being burned, and the sparks they would kick up could easily be placed onto the tunics of one or two members of the group. This wouldn’t cause the children any direct harm, but would allow the parents to become aware of the issue and get on to the children for their carelessness. There was no stronger force in nature than a mother protecting their kids, and it didn’t matter if she was only protecting them from themselves. I felt this would satisfy both of the goals that I hoped to achieve.

I set about my work. I sent a light breeze about that rustled the autumn leaves and blew the pleasant aroma of the pine needles towards the boy. The branch I had in mind was only about twenty paces away, but he did not see it. I needed to make him notice the branch before I could prompt him to bring it over to the fire. 

I moved over to the tree. Maybe there was something here that could be of use. Kachina had shown me ways to catch people’s interest with unique quirks in their surroundings. I moved about the young tree, feeling how its sap flowed through it. Nothing in particular stood out as being particularly interesting outwardly about it. No dense, mysterious patch of foliage that might pique his interests, no unusual marks, not even a mildly interesting knot. Beside the pine, however, was an old and mostly dead Aspen tree. One of its smaller limbs had fallen off and had been suspended for the past week by two other dead branches.

I looked around for something that might be convinced to help me with my plan. A few trees over sat a White-breasted Nuthatch on her nest. I thought she might be a bit small, but I lured her over anyways. I helped her to imagine how nice a perch that week-old branch would make. She did as I had hoped, and caused the precariously balanced limb to fall to the ground by the force of her landing, and I pointed her towards an unseen grouping of seeds for her trouble.

The boy, who had wandered a small distance away from the others in his pursuit of kindling, heard the falling branch and looked up towards it. I quickly reached out and pulled several beams of light onto the coniferous tree, successfully catching his curious gaze.

The cub walked over to the beautifully lit tree and put a paw out to touch it. I placed in his mind an image of the easily combustible leaves rapidly burning in their fire. He readily took to the image, pulled off a couple of small limbs, and returned to the burn site. He handed them to a goat who seemed to be the one in charge of arranging the pile.

I lightheartedly thought back to a scene that happened many years ago of this kid’s father playing the same role in his group of friends, but this wasn’t my memory. I looked over to Kachina, who gave me a jovial smile and nod, then returned her gaze to the offspring of the goat that she had engaged with so many years ago. Like father like son, it seemed.

Once the pile had been arranged, with a little encouragement to place the greenery near the ignition point, I waited for the young wolf with the magnifying glass to set a clump of dry leaves within the base alight.

The fire started nicely, and I brought a breeze to the flames through the opposite side of the pile so that they would grow in intensity but not spread in direction. It worked perfectly, and the green limbs popped and sputtered while the sap inside them boiled. A stick that had been holding aloft a denser branch finally collapsed, sending quite a few sparks and embers into the air. I placed them onto the children nearest the fire, making sure to avoid places where it might cause permanent damage.

A quick thinking white-tailed doe of the deer variety kicked some loose dirt into the fire in an attempt to smother the flames. Another grabbed the water from their pack and doused the burning wood. I bounced back over to my bobcat guide while the younglings continued to kill the fire, feeling very pleased with how I handled the situation.

That memory was one of my proudest since my death, although possibly not the most important. There was one experience that was especially influential in helping me to grow and that helped me to make the most of being a spirit.

It happened the Spring after my fall, before the bonfire experience. My teacher had been exposing me to new things for a while. Things that I hadn’t ever seen before. She showed me things that I never even would have thought to seek out. Things that were inaccessible to me while I was still alive.

We were traveling West to help guide the clouds and rain. We had taken a short rest when I had looked over to Kachina. She was lovingly watching a Red Hawk tend to its fledglings, something that I had little interest in doing. I didn’t hold any sort of hatred towards the birds, but I had always known them to be dangerous. They had no hold over me now, but I still had some residual trepidation about them, probably accentuated by my past experiences with birds of prey. 

My teacher seemed to sense my feelings on the matter. She motioned me over to her side and led me to the hawk’s nest where the bird sat with her chicks, then she moved me to a position where the large bird was easily within reach of me.

She was a bit bigger than me. Well, a lot bigger, but I think some of that may have been from her feathers. Still, she stood taller than me if you don’t count the ears, and that frightened me. I had never been this close to something that would have been able to kill me without reservations.

She was strong, and I could sense that she was a skilled and successful hunter. This bird was powerful, and there would have been no surviving her in a fight. I could also feel her deep love and devotion to her chicks, and knew that there wasn’t a threat that she wouldn’t face if it was to protect them. That was something I could respect her for. She did her best to take care of her family, as any good mother should. Even if she did not share mammalian thoughts or follow the same laws of morality that my former society strove to uphold, I know now that I was connected to her through the passion and love of family. Her love became my love.

I saw it then. I saw that each creature was not just a single creature, but part of something much greater. Now I truly understood how the trees, the birds, the snakes, all the innumerous creatures of the land, and I were connected. I saw the truth of how we were part of a bond that was woven from all living things.

Seeing that connection, that bond, was what I needed to finally relinquish my mortal ideals about the world. It allowed me to feel the world around me, and truly feel it in a way that I hadn’t before. I was able to allow myself to trust in the feelings and perceptions and senses that came to me in a manner that was different than that of mortal creatures to the point where my old senses seemed all but useless. Closing my eyes, I could see every branch, stone, and blade of grass that surrounded me. I could feel the warmth of the sun against the treetop leaves and I sensed the dying limbs of a lightning-struck tree. The sensation of water flowing beneath the ground came to me as easily as the sound from a clap of thunder.

I heard the sound of a faraway mammal singing a familiar tune. The words were muddled, but the melody was clear enough to be recognizable.

It was an old song that had been taught to me when I was still fairly young. The song happened to be one of those ballads that had some sort of story behind them. Not just that the song was based on an old legend or that it was connected with someone’s past, I mean where the words of the song told a story.

This particular song told of a young couple during the times of the Civil War. They were described as very loving to each other, and kind to whoever they met. The problem was that the families of the two lovers were on opposite sides of the conflict and tried to stop the relationship. The pair wanted to get married despite their parents’ differing loyalties, but their families prevented it. The duo eventually ran away from their families to spend their lives together in a place where they were free to do as they wished.

It was a beautiful song and the story filled me with hope whenever I heard it. The words were much clearer now, and the singer was at the part where the families tried to keep them separated.

I opened my eyes. This was not part of my reverie, I realized. This singing that I was hearing came from someone close by. I looked around for its source and found that I had been drawn to the side of the owner of the voice. It was a fox, or rather the fox. It was Nicholas!

His voice was so proud and unrestrained, I thought as I listened to him. It was not the best singing, but certainly not the worst. It was a full sound, and pleasant to listen to. I knew with absolute certainty that he was enjoying being this far away from everything. With no one around, there was absolutely no reason for him to hold back. He was free to be as carefree and as loud as he wanted.

I watched him as he strode alongside the river that weaved beneath the golden trees, his gait matching up nicely with his voice. The setting sun cast everything into a yellowish-orange light, making him blend in somewhat with the plant growth around him. He dawned knee-high socks and a hunter’s cap, and carried with him a rope, a pick, and a rifle, among other things. It seemed that Nick was going hunting.

As he finished his song, he bent over, scooped up a flat rock, tossed it in the air a couple of times, then slung it from his hip into the river, causing it to skip five times before it lost enough speed to sink below the surface of the water.

I had never seen anyone so eager to be out in the wilderness. I could feel his thrill and happiness from the adventure and his awe at the sights and the beauty of the mountains. I felt the same as he did when I looked out at the impossibly large peaks that surrounded us.

I hadn’t thought of him in some time. I had believed that he was out of reach – that I would never see him again – but here he was in front of me. It filled me with such a profound sense of happiness that I could do nothing but smile.

My fondness for him had not dimmed, it seemed, but only been pushed to the back of my mind. I loved him, and the time I had spent as a ghost had not altered that in any way. I felt it in my heart and soul. I felt like I was glowing from my rekindled affections for this fox. There was no stopping it. The longing washed over my heart like water spilling over a waterfall. It was odd how strongly these unexpected feelings crashed into me, as we had not spent a great deal of time together, but they were there nonetheless.

I wanted so desperately to see him and talk with him and be with him, but I had no way to do so. He couldn’t see or hear me. No one could. I could stand in front of him and call his name, and he would have no idea. We were so completely and utterly separated that it seemed an insult that I was even able to see him.

I moved over to his side so that I could walk beside him. I wanted so badly to be able to touch him, to be able to make him see that I was there. That I hadn’t gone away.

A new feeling replaced the joy and feverish delight that I had moments earlier. It seeped across my skin and up my neck like the freezing of a stream. It was a terrible feeling to have the one thing you longed for most so close, but still out of reach. It clawed at my neck and caused a leaden lump to form in the back of my throat. I wiped my cheek as it seemed to be wet. Had I started crying? I sniffed my nose and tried to swallow, but the painful knot would not go away.

I felt a paw on my shoulder. Could it be, somehow…? I looked up and saw Kachina. She gave me a sad, knowing smile and pulled me into a tight embrace.

“I know,” Kachina said to me. “I did not want this for you.” She paused a moment then continued, “Do not let him preoccupy your mind. Yearning for that which is unable to be obtained is good for no one. It causes only pain, to you and the forest.”

Kachina was speaking from experience, I realized. She was remembering back to a time in her own past.

“There was a time, long ago, when I was in the same position as you are now.” She formed an image in my mind. It was of a male bobcat, about my age, creeping around a tree. I was viewing him from above, sat perched in a tree not far left of the one he had just rounded. “He was someone I cared for deeply; someone I had intentions to marry.” I tossed a stone to the right of him and dropped down behind the feline. I quickly grabbed him around the chest and fell backwards, rolling him off to the grass after. The male laughed and gave me a smile, “Are you going to trick me like that every time?” I returned the laugh, “Just as long as you keep falling for it.”

“When I realized I would not be able to join him, I was heartbroken, and the land suffered because of it.” The smiling bobcat swirled and shifted until the image became a dry forest, stretched barren in front of me. The grass was of a yellowish-brown hue, and there were no birds flitting around the trees. “It took me far too long to return my attention to the land, and I almost destroyed the forest and the people that I love because of it.”

We sat in uncertain silence for a moment, Kachina remembering her past while I considered my future. I looked over to Nick. He had moved away from the water to a patch of tall grass underneath a large tree. He had laid out his bedding and was preparing his campsite for the night.

“Stay away from him,” the old ghost cautioned. “Being close to him will only torment you further.”

I had not expected her to want me to forgo being near him entirely. I had just found him, and leaving so soon was not something I had any intention of doing. “I want to stay with him. Just for a little while. I want to try to connect with him, to make him feel that I am here.” 

Kachina shook her head. “You will not be able to make him love you, and any relationship you are hoping to have with him cannot exist. His eyes are blind to you.” Kachina lamented. She looked even more saddened. “I walked the same path you intend to take. I did everything I could to be close to him, but nothing worked.” Her voice was soft and sounded like a gentle summer rain. “He is still mortal, and we are free.”

“Then what is my freedom actually worth if I am not free to pursue my dreams?” I asked her. “You say that I am free now that I am a spirit, but now you’re telling me that I shouldn’t even try to do something that would make all of this ok? If I’m truly free, I should be allowed to experience everything that is in store for me on the path that I forge. I know that you have tried, and I know that it hurt, but I can’t just give up.” No matter what my mind told me, my heart would not permit me to let him go without a fight. “I have to try.”

I knew that I could find the way to make him see. Even if it turned out to be impossible, I had to attempt to show him my love.

My friend knelt down and looked me in the eye. “Child, promise me that you will learn from my mistakes. I need to know that you will protect the health of the land and the people of the mountains. Put them before yourself. It is our duty.”

I remained silent for a time. I knew she was right. I could not allow myself to neglect what I lived to protect. Nothing was to prevent me from upholding my responsibility to nature. However, I knew the forest did not require constant attention. 

Quietly and without looking at the ancient feline, I nodded my head in agreement. I would not abandon the forest, but neither would I abandon Nick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A.N. As always, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I think you’ll enjoy what’s to come.  
> Here is a link to the entire album by the Kruger Brothers on YouTube! It’s worth listening to if you like folk type music or a good story. 
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=OLAK5uy_k-7ci3y2gbPct2RHjOc2Twarm6J2Rule4

**Author's Note:**

> A.N. A link to my source material. I will encourage you to go listen to it, but I will warn you that this is the rest of the story, so major spoiler alert if you care about that kind of thing.
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/album/6JGAhEiVrp5NV7QwXI2LDw?si=FQgIUf1zSW-KfrqSCEe4-g
> 
> or YouTube if you prefer
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=OLAK5uy_k-7ci3y2gbPct2RHjOc2Twarm6J2Rule4


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